by Tabatha Kiss
I walk in and set the crate on the table, along with my hat that’s inevitably going to fall off once we go horizontal.
I turn around and she’s still standing with the door wide-open.
“Thank you,” she says, hand on the knob.
I step closer, gazing down at her. “Is that all I get?” I tease.
She exhales softly. “We need to talk.”
“Oh!” I snap my fingers. “Have you given any thought to what you’re wearing tomorrow night? I’m stuck between two ties.”
“Nate...”
“Blue or red? The blue is more bright and fun but the red is classy and sleek. Figured I’d just match you and save me the trouble of choosing.”
“I’m not going,” she says.
I blink. “What?”
Kimber turns her head down. “I’m not going,” she says again. “I change my mi—”
I grab the door and the knob slips from her hand as I force it closed.
“You’re not going?” I ask. “Why not?”
She takes a deep breath. “I thought about it and I just don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”
“Kimber... you have nothing to worry about. I got this. I’ve got the whole thing taken care of. You don’t have to be scared. Trust me.”
“I’m not. And I do, Nate, I just...”
She goes quiet, her eyes still locked on the floor between us.
I tilt down. “Why won’t you look at me?” I ask.
Her head shakes. “Nate...”
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
She looks up. Her blue eyes threaten to spill over as she nods.
“Yes,” she answers. “We’re having dinner here with his parents tomorrow night. I have to host.”
I grit my teeth as jealously clenches my insides. “Fuck ‘em. Go anyway.”
“I can’t do that,” she says.
“You’d rather spend the night with him and his snooty parents than me?”
The answer is right there in her bright eyes. It’s written all over her silent face.
I rest my hands on her shoulders. “You don’t want this, Kimber,” I say. “Go with me instead.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nate, this is my marriage,” she says. “What we have. You and me. It’s…”
“It’s perfect,” I say.
“It’s temporary.” She shakes her head slowly. “It’s always been temporary. I have to think about that. I have to think about what happens to me when you leave...”
I straighten up, ready to fight and stop the words I know are about to come out next.
“Kimber, don’t...”
“We have to end this,” she says.
I cringe. “No.”
“The sooner we do, the easier it’ll be.”
“No,” I say again.
“Nate, come on.”
“He doesn’t love you.”
“And what, you do?”
“Yes.”
Kimber closes her eyes. Her head drops again as she hides away but I won’t let her stay there.
“I love you,” I say, letting it sink in. “But you already knew that. You already knew how much I worshiped the ground you walk on. I always have. This shouldn’t shock you.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, escaping from beneath her closed eyes.
“We might be temporary, Kimber, but that won’t be.” I take a step back. “That’s all I have to say to you about that.”
Kimber looks up. “Wait, Nate, you can’t just say that and leave.”
“Why not?” I smirk. “In fact, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
She blinks with confusion. “What?”
“We’re just gonna leave it open,” I say. “No closure. No ending. Just an annoying cliffhanger that’s gonna eat away at you.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
I drop my hat back onto my head and open the door.
She juts forward. “Nate, hold on—”
I spin toward her and flash her a wink as I step outside.
She scoffs. “Really?”
I close the door behind me and swing down to grab her empty bottles as I pass by them. The door opens behind me but I don’t look back as she says my name, no matter how much that stings.
I keep walking to the street. I hop up into my truck, toss the bottles into the box in the back, and I sit down in the driver’s seat.
Drive, drop, and go.
It’s what I do.
Twenty-Seven
Kimber
No ending?
No closure?
Just an annoying cliffhanger.
Well, he’s wrong about that part. I’m not the least bit annoyed by this. I actually like cliffhangers. The anticipation of waiting and guessing what’s about to happen next. I live for that shit.
Joke’s on you, milkman.
I’m loving this.
I reach for my hairbrush on the bathroom sink but I extend my arm too fast and knock it off onto the floor.
“Dammit,” I spit.
“You okay?”
I look at Curtis standing beside me in front of the second sink.
“I’m fine,” I say.
I bend over to grab my brush.
Chill, girl...
He straightens the cuffs on his gray sweater. “You seem nervous,” he says.
“I’m not. Well...” I run the brush through my hair and grab the nearest hair-tie off the sink. “A little.”
“Don’t be.” He smiles. “There are no surprises here, Kim. Just a quick dinner. Some chit-chat.”
I exhale to calm my nerves. “I know.”
“They’ll be out of here by nine.”
“Okay.”
“Then, afterward...” He turns to face me. “Maybe we can sit down and give this intimacy thing Sumner raves about a try.”
My stomach churns with guilt.
Guilt? This is my husband.
What he’s suggesting isn’t unreasonable. It’s downright expected. But the thought of being with him in that way... the way I have been with Nate...
His voice echoes in my head.
I love you, Kimber.
I shake off the cold chill and finish tying my hair back. “Maybe,” I say.
Curtis runs his hand up my arm. “I’ve missed you, Kim.”
I nod.
He lays a kiss on my shoulder and takes a step back. “They’ll be here soon. Finish getting dressed.”
“I am dressed,” I say.
He stops and looks me up and down. “That’s all you’re wearing?” he asks.
I glance at my black dress in the mirror, wondering what offends him the most about it. The short sleeves? The v-neck?
Or is it the scars?
Do I really have to ask?
“Yes,” I answer.
“Put a sweater on,” he says.
“It’s too warm for that.”
“Kim.”
No. I really don’t have to ask at all.
I turn around to stare right into his face. “Tell me I’m beautiful, Curtis,” I say.
He looks away and tightens his jaw. “At least wear your hair down.”
I reach to the top of my head to slide my hair-tie out and my hair tumbles down over my shoulders. “Am I beautiful to you now?” I ask.
He glares without answering.
“And you wanted me to fuck you tonight?” I ask. “Is that what this intimacy thing is going to be like between us now? You pretend to be interested, get what you want out of me, and then you hide your shame?”
Curtis rolls his shoulder back. “Is that what he did?” he asks. “Did you fuck him because he called you beautiful?”
My heart stops.
He smirks and shakes his head. “What? You thought I wouldn’t notice another man’s been in my house? In my bed?”
“Stop,” I whisper.
“In my wife?”
A tear rolls down my cheek
. “Stop.”
“The milkman, Kimber?” He sneers in disgust. “Could you be anymore cliché?”
The doorbell rings downstairs. I close my eyes, letting more tears to fall down.
He scoffs. “Clean yourself up and check on dinner.”
I watch as he walks away, shuddering at the cold chuckle in his throat.
My husband knows about our affair. For how long? Doesn’t matter, I suppose. He obviously knows enough to have figured it out.
Why didn’t he say something sooner?
My God, what is he thinking?
The front door opens downstairs. I hear the high-pitched wail of a greeting from my mother-in-law, followed by the low garble of his father. Curtis’ fake pleasantness.
I turn to the mirror. I wipe the tears from my face and push my hair to the left side of my neck, leaving my scars exposed.
I clean myself up.
Just as dear husband requested.
Twenty-Eight
Nate
“Blue.”
I glare at my mother between the two ties held at eye-level in my hands. “You didn’t even look,” I say.
“Blue, kid. Always blue.” She stirs the pot of chili on the stove. “You look like a moron in red.”
My brow piques. “I do?”
She snickers. “Lord, yes.”
I toss the red tie into the trash can. “Blue it is, then.”
“Good call.”
I drape the tie around the back of my neck and leave it there as I sit down at the table. Orange light shines in from outside, bleeding onto the tablecloth. Saturday night at sundown.
Time to party.
“Since when do you freak out about tie selection?”
I look at my mother’s knowing eyes. “Just want tonight to be perfect, that’s all.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Well,” she ladles some chili into a bowl, “whatever it is, don’t get caught like an idiot. There’s a reason why your father used to call July 5th Bail Out Day.”
I chuckle. “I have everything under control, Mother.”
She sits down at the table with her bowl and frowns. “No offense, kid, but you saying that always makes me nervous.”
“None taken.” I sit up tall and flip the tie beneath my collar. “You staying up to watch the fireworks?”
“Might as well.” She takes a bite of her chili. “Damn things wake me up every year anyway.”
I stand while I tie a quick, loose Windsor knot. “Well, I might not be back by then, so I’ll see you in the morning. Probably.”
She lowers her spoon to the table. “Probably?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
I throw on my suit jacket. “Possibly.” I smirk. “Perhaps?”
She shakes her head. “Whatever. I don’t want to know.”
“God willing—”
“Get out.”
I wink. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, kid. You look good.”
“Thank you.”
I push the back door open and step outside.
“You forgot your keys!” she shouts after me.
“I don’t need them,” I say, letting the door close behind me.
Twenty-Nine
Kimber
“Kimber, you seem so much more... confident since the last time we saw you.”
I look at Liana in the chair on my right at the dining room table. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.
She hesitates, her gaze trying ever so hard not to focus on the scars down my cheek. “Well, I... I just mean...”
“Kim.”
Curtis glares at me from the other end of the table as he slices a corner of his steak.
I flash a smile. “It’s all right, Liana. I’m kidding.”
Patrick chuckles and taps his fork against his plate of potatoes. “Good sense of humor on this girl. I’ve always said.”
“Well, it’s been a rough year,” I say. “No need to sugar-coat that, but... we’re getting through it.” I smile at Curtis. “Together.”
Liana coos. “Oh, that’s so sweet.”
“Is it the therapy?” Patrick asks.
She gawks at him. “Pat...”
“What? I’m only asking...”
“A little bit,” I answer.
“When I last spoke with Curt a month ago, he said you were hermit-like.”
“Pat.”
“What? He did.”
I chuckle at my husband. “He’s not wrong.”
“What changed?” Liana twitches. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I say, reaching for my wineglass with my gloved hand. “Actually, I’m not sure what’s come all over me.”
Curtis’ eyes rise to mine.
“Well, whatever it is that’s gotten into you, sweetie, keep it up,” Liana says. “I do miss your smile.”
I look at Curtis. “Oh, I intend to.”
He blinks once as I take a slow sip from my glass.
“Will you be seeing a surgeon about that hand?” Patrick asks, gesturing at my glove with his fork. “I know a wonderful surgeon in the city who could take a look at that for you.”
“Yes,” Curtis answers for me. “We’ll be looking into a cosmetic.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think we will.”
“Kimber, no one wants to see a hand with only two fingers on it.”
“First complaint I’ve heard about it,” I say with a shrug.
He sets his knife down hard.
“Well, I don’t see why she should have to,” Liana says. “As long as she’s happy.”
“Oh, I’m very happy,” I say. “In fact, you’d be surprised just how much I can do with just a thumb and index finger.”
I raise my hand and touch the tips of them together to create a wide, girthy circle.
Curtis stares me down. “Really, Kim?” he asks. “You’re doing this here?”
“Sure,” I say. “Here. On the stairs. In the kitchen.”
“Kim.”
“In the shower.”
He stands up out of his chair so quickly it nearly topples to the floor. With three swift strides, he rounds the table and grabs my arm.
Liana gasps. “Curtis, what are you doing?”
“I need to have a word with my wife,” he growls as he yanks me from my chair.
I go with him as he pulls me across the house to the kitchen, wincing at the pressure of his fingertips.
“Curtis—”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snaps at me, his voice too low for others to hear.
“Let go of me.”
He pulls me forward and shoves me toward the refrigerator. I stumble against it, quickly finding my balance as he leans over me.
“This little tantrum you’re throwing right now is over,” he says. “I understand that we’ve got some shit to work out between us but not here. Not tonight.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I nod. “You’re suddenly very interested in working out our issues. Why is that exactly, Curtis?”
“Are you trying to humiliate me? Is that it?”
“Is it working? Or would you like to hear in excruciating detail how good his cock felt inside of me?”
His mouth forms a hard line. “Goddammit, Kimber...”
“How he made me come over and over—”
“That’s enough!”
I smile. “I’d like that divorce now, please.”
Curtis shakes with rage. “You listen to me, Kim. You’re gonna go back in there, sit down, and you will not say another word for the rest of the night. Do you hear me? This ends right now.”
I turn around and pull open the refrigerator door.
He exhales through his nose. “What are you doing now?”
I grab a glass bottle of Scott’s Dairy milk and kick the door closed behind me. He eyes the bottle and frowns hard as I twist the cap off and bring the bot
tle to my lips.
I drink it.
“Kimber, I swear to God.”
I make eye contact with him as I gulp it down, tipping the bottle more and more.
“Kim...”
Milk spills over my lips and down my chin, streaming all the way down my neck to the floor. I keep drinking and staring at him, honestly enjoying the deep red of his face and the violent twitch of the vein in his forehead.
Curtis grabs the bottle from my hands and throws it to the floor.
I flinch, cowering to the side to shield my face from the glass as it shatters under our feet.
Curtis takes me by the shoulders and yanks me toward him. “I will make you regret this, darling,” he whispers.
He releases me and I jolt backward, slamming into the refrigerator as he stomps out of the room.
I lay a hand on the counter as every nerve in my body shakes with fear and adrenaline. I hear Liana and Patrick speaking in the other room but Curtis feigns that pleasant, business-like tone.
She had an accident. She’s fine.
She’s taking care of it.
Don’t worry about it.
I said don’t worry about it.
The back door opens behind me.
I spin around as Nate steps inside. He wears a casual black suit, a white button-down shirt, and a deep blue tie. I smile at his handsome face as he looks from me to the glass on the floor.
“You know, we charge for those,” he says at the broken bottle.
Laughter trembles my chest. “Hey,” I say, tears filling my eyes.
He steps closer, careful not to crunch the glass, while I wipe drops of milk from my chin. His head turns as voices travel from the dining room. He focuses on them for a moment before looking at me again with those safe, green eyes.
I shake in place, completely torn to pieces from the inside out.
“I had a speech planned, but...” he points over his shoulder at the door, “you wanna just go?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He extends his hand to me and I take it.
Thirty
Nate
“Do you trust me?”
Kimber’s arms tighten around my waist from the seat behind me. “Yes?” she says, uncertain.